Chapter 17 - Owen
The scent of Trina’s blood in the air hits the back of my nose and ignites my rage like gasoline hurled onto hot coals. I’m pure instinct as I stride towards the group of people, a living weapon set loose with only one purpose.
Destroy.
The three young men watch me get closer, all of them wearing mixed expressions of confusion, fear, and anger. My fists clench with every step, and I can almost feel their bones breaking in my hands.
“Owen!” Trina shouts, suddenly appearing in front of me. I stagger back a step, confused.
How did she move so fast? It’s almost like she teleported.
“Stop,” she says, holding up her hand. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I protest, almost ready to push past her to get to the others. “They ambushed you, at my house—for the second time!”
“Alpha,” one of the men says. “Please accept my apology. We didn’t mean for this to get out of hand.”
“Shut up, Charlie,” the ringleader growls. “No one asked you.”
“You’re about to get your ass kicked, Jesse,” Charlie says. “Don’t say I never tried to help you.”
“Jesse, is it?” I say, my voice low and dangerous as I step around Trina. “That would make you Martin’s son, yes?”
“Yeah,” Jesse sneers. “What of it?”
My fists clench tightly, and suddenly, the space between us looks like nothing at all. My entire body tenses as I prepare to spring, and the only thought in my mind is what it will feel like to crush the little punk’s skull.
So I know where to send your corpse, you little fuck!
“Owen,” Trina says, stepping in front of me. “Stop.”
I try to keep my focus on Jesse, but she waves her hand in front of my face, forcing me to look at her. She runs her fingers gently down my cheek, and the second I look into her big, aqua eyes, my anger cools.
She looks… different.
It’s not a change I could immediately describe, but there is a serenity to her that definitely wasn’t there before. For the last few days, her eyes have been shallow and pained, the usual bright depths darkened by shadows of sorrow.
Now they look deeper than ever before. Tropical pools full of treasure that only the bravest heart could find.
“Trina?” I whisper, looking her over in wonder.
She smiles. “There you are. Just look at me, Owen. I’m alright, and these guys are just scared, okay? There’s no need for any of us to fight.”
“Janice is still on the ground,” Jesse says. “What did you do to her?”
“I helped her,” Trina says confidently. “Come on, Owen. I’ll show you.”
I follow Trina over to the fallen woman, who is just opening her eyes. She looks up at Trina with wonder.
“I saw you in my dream,” she says. “I was falling down a long, dark tunnel, and you caught me.”
“Hush now,” Trina says, putting her hand on Janice’s forehead. “You still have a fever. Try to stay calm.”
I watch the scene in amazement, wondering how Trina could have changed so much in a few short hours.
“What the hell happened here?” I ask, turning on the three guys again.
“She attacked us!” Jesse says.
“We attacked her,” Charlie counters.
“They attacked first, then Trina did,” says the only other woman in the group. “She used her powers—it was pretty scary.”
“Trina doesn’t have powers…” My voice trails off as I see evidence against my words written all over their faces.
“Tell that to my ass,” the last guy says, picking himself up off the ground. “I think it broke when she threw us across the yard with a flick of her hand.”
I look between the four of them, more questions building in my mind, but Trina grabs my arm.
“Owen? We have to get Janice to the infirmary, right now.”
“Oh? Oh!” I reply, my senses beginning to sharpen as I turn back to Trina. “Of course.” I give her a searching look. “Trina, what’s going on here? Do you suddenly have powers?”
“I guess so?” she says, looking at her hands. “I mean, I’m trying to call it up now, and I’m not feeling anything—but I definitely did push these guys away from me, and I helped Janice. But Owen—please. We need to move her.”
“Okay,” I answer, shaking my head. “You punks just consider yourselves extremely lucky, on all counts. Get out of my sight.”
Even though Jesse looks like he wants to argue, his friends urge him away, and they leave. I pick up Janice and walk through the woods with Trina, who stays close, comforting the girl.
Trina walks with her head high, an aura of mystery and power clinging to her. She looks calm and sure of herself in a way she never has before. It makes me happy that she’s feeling so much better, but scares me a little, too.
She changed so much, so fast. I wasn’t expecting it, and I truly don’t know how to handle it.
When we reach the infirmary, we find a bed for Janice, and I try to take Trina home. She shakes her head.
“No, I should stay,” she says. “What if I could heal the others?”
“Trina, I don’t know,” I reply. “You’ve only just started learning. Don’t exert yourself.”
“I have to try,” she says, and goes to walk towards a row of beds. When she stumbles, I’m right there beside her, and the sharp scent of her blood floods my nostrils.
“Trina, you’re still bleeding!”
“I’m alright.”
“No, you aren’t! For fuck’s sake—”
I don’t wait for her permission, I just pick her up and leave the hall, walking as quickly as I can back to the house. She protests a little, but I can tell she really is tired now and beyond arguing with me.
I carry her all the way to the bathroom, where I set her down on the edge of the tub and rip her sleeve open to see the wound. Trina winces a little, but doesn’t flinch.
“It’s deep,” I say with concern. “It could probably use stitches.”
“No, don’t worry about that,” she says. “I think it will be okay.”
I make a little grunt of protest, but don’t bother to argue with her. I fill the sink and get her to soak her arm, cleaning it with gauze. She flinches as I dab at the torn skin.
“Ouch,” she murmurs.
“I told you,” I say, a little annoyed. “It would be better to go to a hospital—or a healer.”
“You can’t spare any healers,” she says. “That’s why I didn’t say anything at the infirmary.”
Grudgingly, I inwardly admit that’s also why I didn’t stay there to treat her wound.
I gently take her arm out of the water and dry her skin, trying not to make the cut bleed more. After putting on some antiseptic spray, I carefully wrap up her wound and fix it with a sticky bandage.
“There,” I say. “All fixed.”
“Still hurts like a bitch,” she laughs.
“Did you want something for the pain?”
“No,” she answers. “I just want to go to bed.”
“Okay.”
I walk her to her room, and when we get there, I’m surprised to see a pensive look on her face.
“Thank you,” Trina says, almost clinically. “Good night.”
She starts to shut the door in my face, and I put my hand on it, almost pushing my way into the room.
“Trina, what the fuck?”
“Don’t argue with me, Owen. I’m really tired now.”
“Of course you are,” I reply. “But if you think I’m leaving you alone, then you’ve got to be delirious.”
“Maybe,” she laughs a little. “But I’m still determined.”
She won’t move out of the doorway or let go of the door. And I won’t leave, so we just stand there staring at each other.
“Trina,” I say, urgency rising in my blood. “I can’t leave you alone.”
“I’m fine,” she says, too flippantly. “We should be keeping this whole thing objective, though, don’t you think? It’s getting really complicated.”
It was from the beginning, wasn’t it?
“Trina,” I say, trying to put meaning into my words. “I get that you’re shaken up. A lot has happened tonight. But that’s exactly why I want to be with you.”
I can feel her emotionally withdrawing, and her eyes seem to bring down shutters that lock me out.
What’s wrong with her?
“It’s not just me,” I say quickly. “It’s my wolf.”
“Oh?” she asks, her expression softening.
“I reacted really strongly to your injury,” I say, not lying even slightly. “And my wolf won’t settle down unless I’m with you.”
Trina gives me a long look. I’m telling the absolute truth, but I’m overstating it a bit about how present my wolf is.
I need you right now. My heart and soul as a man… God, Trina. I thought I was going to see you get killed.
I don’t speak the words, but as they rise in my mind, a change seems to move through the air. Trina nods and lets go of the door, stepping back to go and sit on the bed.
Relieved, I follow her to the bed. We shuffle around a bit, getting comfortable. When she curls against my chest and leans her forehead against me, her scent engulfs me, and the relief and comfort I feel then is so intense that it gives me goosebumps.
“I’m okay,” she says, stroking my chest.
“We need to talk about everything,” I say, running my fingers through her hair. “So much happened tonight.”
“Yes,” she answers. “I know. But it’s not like I can explain it all, you know.”
“I know. But your powers manifesting—that’s pretty awesome.”
“I’m not entirely sure that’s what happened,” she sighs. “That’s what I mean by not being able to explain. I really don’t understand it.”
“Well, all I know is that you helped my pack and me,” I say. “I would have slaughtered those guys.”
“I know. They didn’t deserve it. They’re just scared.”
“I understand that, but they hurt you.”
“I don’t think they meant to.”
I stroke her hair a little more, enjoying the silky feel of it against my fingertips.
“You healed someone,” I remind her gently.
“Yes, I think so,” she murmurs. “I definitely felt something then. I have to get better at it. I have to do more…”
Trina’s voice winds down, falling into a low whisper as sleep creeps up on her. I cradle her in my arms as gently as I can, feeling my heart beating against hers.
Right here, with Trina wrapped safely in my arms, I can finally let myself contemplate what would have happened if I hadn’t gotten there in time—and if Trina hadn’t had powers to protect herself.
They would have torn her to shreds. No question. It doesn’t matter if they came to my house intending to hurt her or not. Once blood was in the air, they wouldn’t have stopped.
I curl myself around Trina a bit more tightly, my emotions swelling inside me, a wave of chaos that threatens to overwhelm me. I don’t want to name any of these feelings—not yet, anyway—but there is one thing so incredibly clear I can’t deny it.
Losing Trina scares me more than anything else in this world.